Where Did We Go Wrong?
by lilwoodb
Summary: Yet another NickoxSnorri fanfic, but this one follows all that actually happened in the books. In other words, it goes into the relationship they had while at the House of Foryx—and how it failed.
1. Preparations

**A/N Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry it's been so long, I've been on several road trips, and I was at church camp this past week. And then our wi-fi got shut down! Soooo there have been some difficulties, but now I finally have another fanfic under way! _Yaaay!_ Anyhow, hope you guys enjoy this, and any reviews are appreciated!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Septimus Heap. Though like dozens of fanfic authors before me, I sure wish I did.**

Preparations

"_Klar!_" Snorri exclaimed triumphantly, setting her quill pen in the inkwell. "I have finished the new map, Nicko!"

Nicko, who was lying on the floor taking inventory of their supplies, stood up and went over to the desk to inspect Snorri's work. Aided by candlelight, he looked back and forth between Aunt Ells's hand-drawn map and Snorri's, and let out a low whistle. "Wow. They're identical. Snorri, I never knew you could draw so well!"

Snorri blushed. "It is nothing. A worthy trader must be able to draw maps."

"And you're nothing short of a worthy trader," Nicko declared, patting Snorri's hand. "Now, which copy should we take, yours or Aunt Ells's?"

"Not mine," Snorri answered immediately. "Marcellus will become old and forgetful. He needs a map that he can remember is from us." To prove her point, Snorri picked up the pen again and wrote along the bottom of her copy, in her distinctly neat handwriting, _For Marcellus, with thanks. From Nicko and Snorri._

Nicko nodded. "Makes sense. Besides, your copy is fresher and will last longer, so it won't crumble before—" his voice caught slightly, "—before Sep and Jen can get it."

Snorri flashed him a reassuring smile. "Do not worry. They will find us, I am sure." Then she stood up and surveyed the clutter scattered around the attic bedroom floor. "That is all of the supplies? Nothing is missing?"

"Nope!" Nicko told her proudly. "I've triple-checked everything off the lists, and it's all there."

"But it will all fit in our packs?"

Nicko hesitated. "Er, I'm not sure. Haven't tried."

Snorri looked at him, her azure eyes sparkling with humor. "Then we will try now."

Forty-five minutes (of folding, packing, groaning, unpacking, refolding, rearranging, and repacking) later, the clutter had been reduced to two obese backpacks that not even Nicko could lift, let alone carry. "Perhaps we wear the boots and not pack them?" Snorri suggested.

"You sure?" Nicko asked. "They _are_ fur-lined, and it _is_ the middle of summer."

"The boots _are_ the heaviest, except for the cloaks," Snorri reasoned. "And _I_ choose boots over a winter cloak."

"_Touche_." Nicko opened up the packs, pulled out the boots, then closed the packs and hefted one of them. "That's better," he agreed.

"And now the papers," Snorri added. She picked up her map and walked over to Nicko's bed, where he had strewn their lists, notes, and other miscellaneous scraps of paper. Putting the map on top, Snorri gathered it all into a neat stack, then pulled out a dark blue ribbon from her pocket and bound the papers together. "_Så där!_ Now we shall have some sleep, and in the morning I will give these to Marcellus when we leave."

Nicko flopped back onto his now cleared bed. "And then we can bid old fusspot sayonara."

"That is not fair, Nicko," Snorri admonished. "Marcellus helped us much these past months. And we still must write to him on our journey."

"Yeah, yeah." Nicko rolled his eyes. He still held a grudge against the Alchemist for kidnapping Septimus. "I just can't wait to get back to our own Time. Been here way too long, I can feel all this Olde stuff going to my head."

"Mm," Snorri nodded as she blew out the candle. Then she crossed the room to her own bed and slipped under the covers. "Goodnight, Nicko," she whispered. "_Dröm sött._"

"You too," Nicko mumbled. Within moments the two soon-to-be travelers were fast asleep.

**A/N Yeah, this chapter is kinda short, but there will be 6-7 more, longer ones. I'll update ASAP!**


	2. Voyage

**A/N Here's the next chapter! With thanks to my sister Elena for posing for the cover photo, and to Miss Odale Overstand for help with some of the Swedish words. The Disclaimer still stands.**

Voyage

"ALL HANDS ON DECK!" came the frantic call of the bosun.

Snorri sat up with a jolt—and immediately wished she hadn't. Up until that moment, she and Nicko had been asleep in their cabin on the _Mermaid_, a cargo ship bound from the Port to the Trading Post across the sea. The two of them had opted to travel via cargo ship rather than by passenger ship, as it was less expensive, but the trade-off was less-than-suitable accommodations. This included the "cabin", which was nothing more than an empty, three-foot-high storage room on the top deck.

Ignoring the throbbing pain from the bump rapidly rising on her forehead, Snorri braced herself against the wall as the cabin rocked to and fro with the ship. Carefully she felt her way through the dark and shook Nicko awake. "Nicko. Nicko! There is a storm!"

"Wherrgh?" Nicko rolled over and yawned. "Mm, go back 'sleep," he mumbled blearily.

Another wave hit the ship, and the cabin bucked sharply. Snorri managed to hang on to a hook nailed in the wall, but Nicko was flung from his bedroll and into a nearby crate containing anvils. (The room he and Snorri called their cabin was used to store shipments of metalware.)

"Argh! Okay, okay, I'm awake," Nicko winced, rubbing the back of his head. "Gah, what a wake-up call."

"No time!" Snorri insisted. "Nicko, outside there is a storm!"

"Yeah, you're right," Nicko agreed, wide-awake now. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going out to help!" He wriggled over to the door and opened it. A strong gust of wind and rain blasted into the cabin, throwing the door wide open. Nicko hesitated.

"I will go with you," Snorri offered.

"Yes, of course," Nicko said gratefully, and the two of them crawled out onto the deck.

The _Mermaid_ was, at that moment, the epitome of chaos. Like ants whose nest is being blasted with a hose, the sailors scurried frantically all over the ship, attempting to tie things down and avoid the spray at the same time. Horrified, Snorri watched as a man up in the crow's nest struggled to lower the mainsail, was caught in a sudden gale, and hurled into the air. Then a wet strand of white-blonde hair blew into her face, and when she peeled it off her face the man was gone. Snorri didn't want to think about his fate.

Another wave bucked the ship, and Nicko and Snorri were thrown to the ground. A passing sailor dressed in the naval jacket of a first mate nearly tripped over them, and stared down in shock as he realized that they were passengers. "Thou art foolish to trod the decks of our _Mermaid_ whilst a tempest such as this unleashes its wrath!" he reprimanded as he hurriedly helped them up. "As the bosun of this fine ship, thou must kindly allow me to escort thee back to thy—"

An ominous _CRA-A-A-ACK_ cut the bosun off, and both he and Nicko turned sharply in the direction of the noise. It didn't take long to find it. The windstorm was taking its toll on the mainmast, which was heavily splintered near the base and tilted at a dangerous angle.

Nicko and Snorri hot on his heels, the bosun scrambled over to inspect the damage. He shook his head frantically. "No, oh no! It cannot be true! The mast of our beloved _Mermaid_ hath been damaged. It will fall ere long, and the _Mermaid_ will sink! All will perish!"

"Not yet, they won't!" Nicko insisted firmly. "Mr. Bosun, how strong are you?"

The bosun gave him a quizzical look, in part for the dialect and in part for the question. "I have hefted a great number of weights in the course of my vocation. Why dost thou ask?"

"Good. I need you to brace yourself against the mast and support it for the next fifteen minutes." He turned to Snorri. "Go belowdecks and find the ship's blacksmith. Tell him to come up, and to bring his hammer and about twenty spikes with him, maybe twenty-five just to be safe. I'll be right back!" And with that, he dashed back to their cabin.

By this time Snorri, who had looked through the crates with Nicko that afternoon out of curiosity, had caught on. But knowing that there wasn't much time, she didn't bother to explain Nicko's plan to the bewildered bosun, and instead made a beeline for the trapdoor that led belowdecks. She dashed down the hallways, calling, "Blacksmith! Blacksmith, we need the blacksmith!"

Finally a muscular man sporting a sooty pair of cutoff pants and a shining bald head stepped out of one of the rooms. "I be the smith," he said. "For what use dost thou require my services?"

Snorri knew Old Speak well enough by now to understand what he was saying, so she said quickly, "Top deck. Mainmast is damaged, you are needed to fix. You bring hammer and twenty-five spikes. Hurry!" After some rethinking, she corrected herself and added, "Make haste!"

Like the bosun, the blacksmith also looked puzzled, but he did as he was told. Moments later he and Snorri were stumbling across the topsy-turvy deck to the mainmast, which a disgruntled bosun was holding upright with his back. Nicko beckoned them over.

"Oh, good, you're here," he said, relieved. Then he held up four strips of metal, each two feet long with five evenly spaced holes punched through them. Recognition dawned on the bosun and smith as Nicko held one of the metal strips up against and parallel to the mast. The blacksmith immediately grabbed a spike and began hammering it into the wood through one of the metal holes.

Five minutes later the twenty-third spike had been hammered through the last hole (three spikes had been lost to the elements), and the bosun slid down to collapse on the deck in relief. Nicko thanked the blacksmith, who turned to leave and soon disappeared in the heavy rain. A crewmember then came up to the bosun and announced that everything had been tied down, and nothing more could be done but to ride out the storm. The bosun nodded weakly, then turned to Nicko and Snorri and told them to go back to their cabin and try to get some rest. The two teens, soaked and exhausted, didn't argue.

* * *

The next morning, the _Mermaid_ docked in Harbor Number Three. As Nicko and Snorri prepared to disembark from the ship, the bosun stopped them.

"Many thanks to thee, Nikolas Heap, for thy quick thinking in the midst of the pandemonium ensuing last night." He pressed something small into Nicko's hand. "This be the key to my humble net loft. If thou and thy dame ever need a place to lodge for a night, thou art welcome to use it anytime."

Nicko blushed, particularly at the mention of the word 'dame'. "Oh no, I can't—"

"Please, I insist," the bosun pressed. "Thou shalt accept it as a token of my gratitude, for preserving not only the mast—" he leaned forward conspiratorially, "—but my beloved career, as well."

"Take it, Nicko," Snorri said. "We do need a place to stay tonight."

The bosun's eyes lit up. He had not expected his offer to be needed so soon.

Nicko consented. "Alright. Thank you, Mr. Bosun."

"Thou art most welcome," he replied. "Farewell, and safe travels." And with a twinkle in his eye, the bosun was gone.

As they made their way through the bustling Harbor, Nicko walked with a spring in his step. The first half of their journey was over. What could possibly go wrong?

Quite a lot, in fact. But neither Nicko nor Snorri could possibly know _that_.


	3. Price

**A/N Alright, so here's Chapter 3. Thanks to all who have reviewed so far! Little more action today, so hopefully the exposition is now history! FYI, I am leaving on vacation tomorrow, and I will be gone for three weeks, so I may not be able to post anything for awhile. But I'll do my best, so don't desert me yet!**

Price

Nicko and Snorri ended up staying at the net loft for two days, using the time to stock up on food and other supplies. It took another full day for them to find their way through the tangle of Harbors and out of the Trading Post. And then yet a fourth and fifth day was spent wandering around the snowy countryside of Wudz as they tried to figure out their whereabouts based on Aunt Ells's map and Snorri's compass. Finally the teens happened to stumble on one of the refuges, and after spending a cozy night there, Nicko was able to figure out their location based on the direction of the path. The next morning Nicko and Snorri reluctantly left the hut behind and went on their way, resisting the temptation to stop at two other refuges they passed. That afternoon they crossed a plank bridge, climbed a steep slope, tried very hard not to roll down the the other side (and didn't entirely succeed), and before long they were staring in awe at the suspension bridge stretching over the abyss.

"That'll cost you," said a harsh voice from somewhere in the fog, as it would say to Septimus, Jenna and Beetle five hundred years later.

Nicko smiled wryly. "Is that the Toll-Man?" he asked Snorri.

She shrugged. "I suppose so?"

"That would be correct," the voice said again. There was a muffled thud, and the small, wiry man suddenly appeared in front of them, barring their way to the bridge. "If ya knew my name before ya came," he said, peering at them with his little DomDaniel-wannabe eyes, "then you must'a known I charge a toll for crossing the bridge."

Nicko straightened up. "Yes, we did," he said confidently, making up for the apprehension and disgust that Snorri showed. "Allow me to show you." The Toll-Man watched as Nicko swung his pack around and opened one of the side pockets. Nicko fumbled around in the pocket for a minute, then pulled out a small golden figurine and a gold-encrusted timepiece (not unlike the one Beetle would almost give up later) and dropped them in the Toll-Man's velvet sack.

The Toll-Man let out a low whistle. "You two young 'uns came prepared. But," he added with an ill-concealed grin full of gold dentures, "I's afraid it ain't quite enough to satisfy me."

"_What?!_" Nicko and Snorri both shouted simultaneously.

"Now, now, doncha fret." The Toll-Man held up his hands before Nicko's outburst let fly. "I'm a fair man, as I always say. Make it a point not to ask folks for what they can't give. But _you_—" he pointed a stubby finger at Snorri, "—got something of interest to me."

Snorri breathed in sharply. "_Vad vill du?_" she asked, forgetting herself.

The Toll-Man roared with laughter. "Ah, so you're from the Land of the Long Nights! I like it. Very well, Missy, I'll use your tongue." And he surprised both Nicko and Snorri by saying, "_Jag vill ha den guldtråd på dina kläder_."

"_Nej!_" Snorri exclaimed, clutching her robes and taking a step back, her eyes wide with fear. "_Jag har förtjänat det! Jag är en köpman från norr!_"

The Toll-Man rolled his eyes. "I dunno what a 'Trader from the North' is, and I don' really care. I'll have it whether ya like it or not!"

Fearfully, Snorri asked, "_Vill du ha mina kläder också?_"

"Ya jokin'? No!" the Toll-Man snorted. "Whaddya think I'd want with your rags? Just the gold thread on it, that's all I ask for. And just the stuff on your garments—I won't even make you gimme the gold thread on your headband. Now ain't that a bargain."

At last Nicko understood. "How dare you!" he yelled at the Toll-Man, his temper lost. "Snorri worked hard to be a Northern Trader, she _earned_ those gold stripes! Whereas you _haven't_ 'earned' anything!"

The Toll-Man went purple with rage at the insult. "Look, sonny boy, d'you and your gal wanna cross this bridge or not?!" he demanded, leaning in to shout in Nicko's face.

"SLUTA!"

Both Nicko and the Toll-Man broke off their argument and turned to stare at Snorri. In her fist she held a wad of gold-trimmed navy and burgundy strips of cloth, torn from the hems of her robes. "_Ja,_ we want to cross," she said quietly, pressing the cloth into the Toll-Man's pudgy hand. He looked at her for a moment in disbelief, then he flashed an ugly gold grin at her, and scampered back up into his tree.

Snorri took Nicko's hand. "_Komme,_ Nicko," she said with a rueful smile. "We cross the bridge now."

Nicko shook his head in disbelief. "Snorri, why did you let him have it? You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did," she interrupted. "Or we would never go in the House of Foryx."

He sighed. "I suppose you're right—whoa!" Snorri had led him right up to the edge of the abyss, and for the first time he saw just how rickety the suspension bridge was. Nicko somewhat shared his younger brother's fear of heights, and the despairing wails making their way up from the abyss weren't helping. He gulped. "Er, I'm not sure I want to cross that."

"It is alright, Nicko," she murmured, turning to face him. "Close your eyes, and I will lead you across." She clasped both his hands tightly and took a step backward onto the first plank. Nicko did as he was told.

Ten minutes later the teens had covered over two-thirds of the bridge in this fashion. "That is it, Nicko," Snorri said encouragingly. "We are nearly there, nearly there. Just few more steps and—_AAAHH!_"

Nicko's eyes snapped open just in time to see Snorri step on a plank that snapped under her foot. Snorri dropped like a stone, and Nicko was dragged down with her, falling to his knees on the plank in front of him. Caught by surprise, Nicko naturally loosened his grip—and immediately realized his mistake. "Snorri!"

Luckily, she had gotten ahold of the planks on either side, one of which Nicko was kneeling on. But Snorri, in her sailing experience, had never had to support her own weight before, and her grip was rapidly slipping. "Nicko, _help!_" she cried.

Frantically, Nicko sprang into action. He lunged down and grabbed Snorri by her waist. "Push...up!" he managed through gritted teeth.

She did, and next thing Snorri knew, she was lying on top of Nicko on the bridge. Both teens were breathing heavily.

Exhausted, they lay there for a few minutes. Then both of them seemed to realize how awkward it was, and they quickly but carefully stood up and self-consciously brushed themselves off. His fear of heights gone, replaced by adrenaline from the fear of losing his sweetheart, Nicko easily made it across the rest of the bridge with Snorri. Neither spoke during that time.


	4. Interlude: What If

**A/N: Hey, I'm back. _Really_ sorry, but I haven't been able to work on the next chapter AT ALL (even though I know exactly what it's about, never you fear about writer's block!), due to being on vacation and getting little/no Wi-Fi. I'm still on vacation, so it'll be awhile before there's another official chapter. But in the meantime, I found these song lyrics, and I think that they foreshadow the story perfectly, especially the italicized parts. Check it out.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own these lyrics, they are from Coldplay, an epically awesome band.**

What If

What if there was no light?  
Nothing wrong, nothing right  
_What if there was no time_  
And no reason or rhyme?

What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life?

_What if I got it wrong?_  
And no poem or song  
Could put right what I got wrong  
Or make you feel I belong

What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life?

Ooh, that's right  
_Let's take a breath, jump over the side_  
Ooh, that's right  
How can you know it if you don't even try?  
Ooh, that's right

Every step that you take  
Could be your biggest mistake  
It could bend or it could break  
But that's the risk that you take

_What if you should decide_  
_That you don't want me there in your life_  
_That you don't want me there by your side?_

Ooh, that's right  
Let's take a breath, jump over the side  
Ooh, that's right  
How can you know it when you don't even try?  
Ooh, that's right

Ooh, that's right  
Let's take a breath, jump over the side  
Ooh, that's right  
_You know that darkness always turns into light_  
Ooh, that's right


	5. Arrival

**A/N Hey, I actually managed to write up a chapter on vacation! Woo-hoo! Okay, I've also realized that I'm going to have more chapters than I originally thought (more like 9 or 10, now), so more happiness! Unless you all really hate this story, in that case g.a.l. (jk) Soooo thanks to all you reviewers, the Disclaimer still stands and I am not Angie Sage, aaaaaaand here's the chapter!**

Arrival

"Did you say..._the Wight of the Widdle?_"

Nicko sighed. "Yes, the Right of the Riddle. We can't be the only ones to have asked for it!"

The DoorKeeper shook his head in disbelief. "No. But it's still wather ware. Folks don't genewally know about the Wight of the Widdle." He drew himself up to his full height of exactly four feet. "_Veeeeeeewy_ well," he said, his old self returning. "You two have surpwised me this once, but I don't think you can surpwise me again!"

But that is exactly what they did. For Aunt Ells knew the answers to all three of the required riddles from her adopted parents, and she had not only told Nicko and Snorri what the answers were, but helpfully drew reminder pictures of them on the map. After answering the final riddle correctly, the DoorKeeper stumbled back in shock, and allowed the teens to enter the House of Foryx.

As they crossed the threshold, Nicko was rather startled not to feel anything different, any sign that they were leaving Time. For all he knew, Nicko could've been taking Snorri into any old cabin—ignoring the cabin's size, shape, and importance, of course. He took one last glance back at the snowy landscape before the DoorKeeper closed the heavy door, never to see it again for five hundred years.

"The checkered lobby," Snorri was saying. "And that is the waiting chair." She pointed to it, and Nicko noticed that there was still a lady dressed white and gold seated there, as Aunt Ells had described. The lady noticed them and gave Nicko a small smile, then resumed staring at the door longingly.

"Nicko." Snorri snapped her fingers in front of his face, jolting Nicko out of his reverie. "We must find our room to stay in, _komma ihåg_?"

"Ah. Yes. Let's go, then."

They walked through the lobby and stepped into the Great Hall, and it was _then_ that Nicko began to feel strange. The room seemed to sway slightly, as if on a ship, but both Nicko and Snorri knew that it wasn't. Everything seemed to be shrouded in a black, gauzy curtain, and the people milling about were no more than shadowy blurs. Nicko heard Snorri draw a sharp breath, and he put a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Ex_-cuse_ me."

Nicko turned around to find himself face to face with Septimus. Or so he thought, until his hopes were dashed when he realized that the figure in ExtraOrdinary Apprentice robes was a tall girl with long, silky black hair, pale skin, and sharp features. And at that moment her features bore an expression of extreme disapproval. **A/N Of course. When ****_isn't_**** she disapproving?** "Um...what?" Nicko managed.

The girl sighed. "Hel_-loh_, your _bags?_" she said in annoyance, holding up their packs. "I'm showing you to a room, _right?_"

"Wait...how'd you get—"

Snorri interrupted, "_Ja,_ we want a room. Take us, if you are so kind."

The Apprentice girl softened. But only a little. "Well, at least I'm not dealing with _two_ simpletons. Very well, off we go, then." She set off at a brisk pace through the crowded Great Hall, and Nicko and Snorri hurried after her.

"What is she doing with our packs, Snorri?" Nicko asked as they dodged an armored knight and his page.

"You did not see?" Snorri replied in disbelief. "The DoorKeeper took them when we came in. He put them in a cupboard with an **Enchanted Floor** and—"

"**Enchanted Floor**?"

"You know, the **Floor** moved, like the stairs in the Wizard Tower you talked about. It carried the packs away, and she—" Snorri pointed at the Apprentice Girl, "—takes them to the room for us."

Nicko shook his head. _This place is already getting to me,_ he thought, _and we've only been here for, what, five minutes? Or wait—if there's no Time here, then would it be...? Ugh, I'm getting dizzy. Better stop there._

Talmar Ray Bell (though they didn't know it was she) led them up a flight of stairs and onto the landing, giving them the same spiel that she would give to Septimus, Jenna, and Beetle much later. But instead of showing the teens through the concealed door, Talmar took them up into one of the four turrets. Before long, Nicko and Snorri found themselves facing one of many closed doors, their packs deposited on the ground and the Apprentice girl nowhere in sight. Nicko pushed the door open.

The room inside was exactly like the one Aunt Ells had described. It was tiny but very cozy-looking. There was a four-poster bed with white, silken sheets and fluffy pillows on the right, and opposite it on the left was a hearth, in which a fire burned brightly and merrily. A small bureau rested in the far corner, and beside the open door sat a desk and a comfy armchair. On top of the desk was a candle and a platter of biscuits, which Nicko remembered from Snorri's note was never empty. Curious, he selected a biscuit and popped it in his mouth. It was delicious after two weeks' worth of dried herring, but there was a subtle bland taste about it that made Nicko frown.

Snorri set their bags by the hearth and shrugged off her winter cloak. A pang shot through Nicko as he saw the ragged hems of her robes, where the gold thread had been ripped off. Only now did he wonder how the Toll-Man could have possibly seen the trimming from underneath her cloak. That man certainly had an eye for gold. _At least he didn't take the important gold item,_ he told himself.

Snorri caught him staring. "It does not matter now, _min älskade._ That is in the past."

Nicko sighed. "Doesn't make it right," he muttered as Snorri went back to unpacking. Then something occurred to him. "Snorri, what does '_min älskade_' mean?"

She glanced up sharply. "What?"

"'_Min älskade_'. You know, you said it earlier."

Snorri blushed. "Is not important," she mumbled. "Just a—remark."

Nicko didn't believe her for an instant, but he didn't feel like pressing the issue. He and Snorri were going to be in the House of Foryx for who-knows-how-long, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause tension between them.

Which he would unwittingly do later, regardless.

**A/N Yes, you'll find out what it means in the next chapter. Unless you're really impatient, then ask Miss Odale Overstrand or seek out Google Translate. Ta-ta for now, until the next chapter, which I promise has more action!**


	6. Sparked

**A/N Thank you, Odale, for the translation help! I will get on that ASAP. DISCLAIMER: I don't own ****Sep Heap****.**

Sparked

Elsa Groningen watched Snorri make her way down the spiral stairs of the turret. She sat on the bench upright, head held high, her whole body poised to stand. She had been **Watching** this girl ever since she and that sailor boy had come to the House of Foryx, **Watching** her come to the landing on her own once a day, stand at the balustrade with her eyes closed for long moments, muttering under her breath, occasionally gesturing at something that wasn't there. Elsa had had her suspicions for a while now—aside from her actions, the girl had unnaturally pale hair, those trademark blue eyes, she dressed in rags, and moved with a certain stealth that, to Elsa, was a dead giveaway. The girl was a witch, no two ways around it. And today, Elsa was determined to squeeze a confession out of her.

As one might have guessed, Elsa Groningen was the horse-faced Guardian. Hotep-Ra had met her at the Castle, where she'd served as a handmaiden to the Queen of the Time. Elsa had often been the go-between for Hotep-Ra whenever he needed a message sent to the Queen, and the ExtraOrdinary Wizard quickly befriended the handmaiden. Then just before he departed for the House of Foryx for the last time, Elsa's father, a Palace stable tender, was caught in a scandalous act of adultery with one of the Princesses, and the entire Groningen family was disgraced. Taking pity on her, Hotep-Ra offered the newly dismissed handmaiden a job as a Guardian of the House of Foryx. Grateful, Elsa accepted, happy to have a new position far away from the Castle gossip. But what Elsa never figured out was that the House of Foryx had a tendency to make people, well, not their usual selves. And little by little, the the once-easygoing Guardian developed a heightened sense of paranoia, and as she was a haughty woman to begin with, the combination was rather...unpleasant. As a certain fifteen-year-old girl was about to find out.

Elsa jumped to her feet and sauntered over. "And what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Snorri started and whirled around. Her white-blonde hair had a messy, bedhead look to it, and her azure eyes seemed rather milky and unfocused. "_Jösses!_ Wh-who are you?"

_A foreign word,_ Elsa thought._ Interesting._ "My dear girl," she soothed, her voice adopting a sickly sweet tone, "You have not answered my question. I asked you—" the words had an edge to them now, "—what did you think you were doing?"

"I—I...I..." Snorri was at a loss for words.

"Oh, come now." Elsa reached out a hand and stroked the girl's cheek, noting her flinch with satisfaction. "You've been coming down here every day now whilst you and that boy have been Biding your Time. Surely you must be up to something. No, no, it's all right," she added as a panicked look crossed the girl's features, "you can tell me. I won't hurt you. Not if I have to." _Got you,_ she thought.

Snorri stared at the Guardian in dismay for a few seconds. Or minutes. Or hours, even. But eventually, her face shifted into an expression of grim determination. "No," she stated cooly. "I will not tell what is not your business."

Furious, Elsa lunged forward and grabbed Snorri by the wrists. The girl gasped sharply as the Guardian dug her long, pointed nails into her pale skin. "I tried to be nice, oh, yes I did," Elsa hissed, more like a snake now than a horse. "But I can see that you are going to be...difficult. I know you for what you are, and I know what you have been doing. You couldn't hide from me, could you now? Oh, no you couldn't." She smiled, showing off a row of straight, pointed teeth. "But I'm feeling rather benevolent right now. I'll give you. One. Last. Chance." With each word she tightened her fist, the nails sinking so deep that they began to draw blood. "I don't want to see you practicing your witchcraft _ever again._ Understand? Now get out of my sight, you _W__itch!_"

At the last word Elsa ripped away her nails and flung the girl away, turned on her heel and triumphantly marched through the concealed door to inform Hotep-Ra that there was a Witch on the loose.

* * *

Snorri tore up the stairs and skidded into the corridor.

_Witch witch witch witch witch..._

She had to get to Nicko. That was all she needed to do.

_Witchcraft witchcraft WITCH witchcraft witchcraft WITCH..._

Nicko would understand. He would know what to do.

_Get out of my sight, you WITCH!_

She needed him. He would comfort her and erase the pain.

_WITCH! WITCH! WITCH!..._

He would make everything better.

* * *

Nicko was sitting at the desk, in the middle of sketching the _Mermaid_ from memory when Snorri burst through the door. Startled, he jumped from his seat. "Hey, what's up?" Then he noticed her violent trembling, the tears flowing freely down her face. "Oh gosh, Snorri, what's wrong? What happened?" Nicko hurried over, and Snorri threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Needless to say, Nicko was more than a little shocked. Snorri never acted like this._ Never._ Feeling more than a little concerned, he patted her on the back and let her cry for a while, then whispered, "Hush, now. Shh, it's alright. I'm here."

Gradually the tears ceased to flow, and Snorri whimpered, "I could not do it. I could not say I am a Spirit-Seer."

"Hey, shh. No, of course you couldn't. You don't have to tell anyone if you don't want them to know. Now," he went on softly, moving a hand up to caress her hair, "start from the beginning."

Snorri obliged. Still clinging tightly to Nicko, she haltingly related the events on the landing. As the tale progressed, Nicko grew tense as his anger flared brighter and stronger. When Snorri mentioned how sharp the Guardian's nails were, he immediately pried her hands from his neck and stared at the angry red dotted line circling her left wrist like a bracelet, dripping blood all over his own hands and tunic. Nicko was mortified. Seeing the ghastly red bracelet triggered something deep inside him, and he dropped Snorri's hands and impulsively made his way to where the packs lay on the floor by the hearth. Nicko dug through the many pockets in his own bag until his fist closed on a small metal object he had found at the Trader's Market. It was time. He knew it was.

Bemused, Snorri watched as Nicko dropped something in his pocket, slowly walked back over to her, and clasped her hands again. "Snorri?" he asked.

She wiped away a stray tear and sniffled. "Yes, Nicko?"

"Snorri, there's something I want to ask you. Will you listen to me for...however long it takes to say it?"

Cocking her head, Snorri nodded.

"Thank you." Then, to Snorri's complete and utter shock, Nicko, still clasping her hands, knelt down on the floor in front of her and began to speak.

"From the moment I met you, Snorri, I felt drawn to you, in a way that I have never truly felt before. I loved everything you said and did, and I felt this strange sense that I wanted to be a part of it all. And I still do." Nicko hesitated, then pushed on. "And then today, when you told me about the Guardian, I realized something more: I want to protect you. I don't want that to ever happen to you again, and if you say yes, it won't have to." He took a deep breath, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple gold ring. "Snorri Snorrelssen of the Land of the Long Nights, when and if we ever find the Time or place, then...will you marry me?"

Snorri gasped. A million thoughts ran through her mind, making her dizzy. Her knees buckled, and she fell back onto the bed. They were too young, weren't they? And what would her mother say?

"Snorri? Are you alright?"

Who cared what her mother would say?

Sitting up, Snorri smiled at Nicko. Tears streamed down her face again, but they weren't hurtful. "Yes. Yes I am...and yes I will."

Nicko's jaw dropped. Then he laughed; a happy, triumphant sound to Snorri's delighted ears. Next thing she knew, he had lifted her up off her feet and was twirling her around the room. And then they kissed. Yes, they kissed each others' lips; an innocent, honest kiss. As they broke apart, and Nicko slid the ring on her finger, Snorri leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.

"_Min älskade._ My beloved."

**A/N Ohh, here we go! Alright, a couple notes. The word 'groningen' is actually a type of horse...get the joke? {ba-dum CHHH!} Also, just as the House of Foryx has had an effect on Nicko (as Camilla Richard pointed out nicely) and the Guardian, it has also, well, doused Snorri's fire, and she is not quite the spunky, independent girl that she normally is. This may have consequences later on... (hint, hint!)**


	7. Hopes

**A/N Y'know it's funny, this next chapter was actually the very first one I wrote, back before I didn't know where I wanted this story to go. You readers will probably be able to tell, as there are some parts that aren't totally consistent with the previous chapters, but I didn't want to get rid of them.**

Hopes

"Snorri!" Nicko burst through the doorway of their room, looking very excited indeed. "Snorri, you'll never guess who I just found!"

She looked up hopefully. "Septimus and Jenna are here? With Ullr?"

All at once Nicko's happy demeanor faded, and he sighed. "No, I haven't seen them anywhere." Then he brightened again. "But hey, you wanna know who I _did_ find?"

Snorri's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She wasn't sure how much longer she could last in this wretched place, even with the support of her fiancé. Nevertheless, she hid her disappointment and, clasping his hands in hers, asked, "Who did you find, _min älskade?_"

Nicko was pleased to hear her refer to him as her beloved, even more so to hear it in her own language. "You're never going to believe this, but there's actually a parson! Here, in the House of Foryx!"

Snorri looked at him quizzically. "A—parson?" she questioned, tasting the word on her lips. _It sounds like "parsley", their word for "_persilja_", she thought bemusedly. But why would Nicko want me to know about an herbalist?_

"Yeah, a parson!" Nicko said excitedly. "You know, he's a judge who does weddings!"

_Weddings..._Suddenly Snorri understood. "_En kyrkoherde,_" she whispered breathlessly. Sitting up on the bed, she said, "You are serious, then, about a marriage?"

Nicko looked a little hurt. "Of course I am, my love," he said softly, sitting beside her on the bed. "Like I said last night, you and I were meant to be together. Besides," he added with that crooked grin that delighted Snorri, "if we are wed here and now, we won't have to worry about our parents getting in the way."

Snorri laughed. "You are right, Nicko. My mother would never agree. But she does not need to know this way."

"Exactly!" Nicko wrapped his arm around Snorri's waist fondly. "I only wish that I had packed a wedding dress for you to wear."

They looked at each other. Snorri raised an eyebrow, Nicko's mouth twitched, and within a split second they had both collapsed backward onto the bed with laughter. Between guffaws, Snorri managed, "Nicko, that would—he he ha!—not fit in the pa-ha-ha-hacks!"

After a while they recovered enough to sit back up. Wiping away a tear, Nicko said to Snorri, "I'll bet I would've found a way, though."

She snorted. "One half crown says not."

"Sorry, no deal." After another chuckle, Nicko grew serious. "But it wouldn't seem right if all you had to get married in were these clothes." He fingered her threadbare Northern Trader robes absentmindedly.

Snorri gently pried his hand away and squeezed it. "I do not mind, _min älskade._ The clothes are not important in a marriage." She saw that this seemed to amuse her fiancé, but Snorri dismissed the thought when he didn't comment.

Then Nicko snapped his fingers. Snorri watched as he stood up and strode over to the small bureau in the corner, where the spare bedsheets were kept. Opening the top drawer, he pulled out a white sheet embroidered with flowers on the top edge and shook it out, then cleanly ripped it in half with one smooth motion. Nicko spread the halves out on the floor and, taking the bottom edge of one, he folded it up about a fourth of the way. Next he grabbed the sheet by the crease and held it up so that the folded part was facing him at eye-level, and the embroidered edge hung to the floor. "Snorri, love," he said, his voice muffled from behind the cloth, "would you do me a favor and stand up?"

Snorri did as she was told, and Nicko held it up to her with satisfaction. "See? Problem solved."

"That is wonderful, Nicko, but...this is not a dress," she said in confusion.

"Ah, but it will be," Nicko said, tapping Snorri on the nose playfully. "That's what the other half is for. I'll fold it like this one, pin the two of them back to back, put it on you, tie it with a sash, and—_voilà!_ You'll have a wedding dress."

Giggling, Snorri shook her head. "Oh, Nicko. Fine, I will wear it for you."

Nicko grinned. "Great! Now," he went on, putting down the sheet, "we just need a flower bouquet, and a wedding veil, of course..."

Snorri rolled her eyes. "Nicko, do we really need all of that? Is not the dress enough?"

"No, of course it isn't," Nicko replied, standing up. "Not for you, love." And he kissed Snorri on the lips.

She returned the kiss affectionately. "You have won, then," she said when they parted. "But I shall have to find a cleaner tunic for you to wear, for I will not make it out of a bedsheet. _Nej,_ I will borrow one from another man, and he may not be as thin as you are."

"Oh, you wicked girl!" Nicko declared jokingly. "But what are we waiting for? We have a wedding to organize in a very short amount of time—"

"Time?" Snorri cut in wryly. "How you know the Time we have in this _fängelse?_"

Instantly she regretted saying it as a shadow crossed sweet Nicko's features. Thankfully the moment passed quickly, and Nicko was back to his normal self once more. "Anyhow, I'll go find flowers and something to use as a veil, you search for a tunic—" he gave her a mock pointed look "—and then we can work on making invitations. We should invite everyone in the House of Foryx! That'll give them all a good change of pace, don't you think?"

Snorri nodded. "Alright, _min älskade._ I shall start looking now." And giving him a quick peck on the cheek, Snorri slipped out the bedroom door.

As she walked through the corridor, Snorri once again begin to feel queer, just as she had last night when Nicko proposed to her. _I did not know that he would want us to be married this soon, _she thought nervously._ Maybe we really are taking this too fast. _But she brushed the feeling aside and set about her task.


	8. Ceremony

Ceremony

Judge Andrew Parson surveyed the Great Hall with satisfaction. Their efforts had paid off, and anyone who might happen to enter the House of Foryx at that moment would think they had entered a chapel. Flowerpots bursting with blooms of all different colors now joined the candles in lining the walls, having been borrowed from the Foryx Greenhouse. Chairs of various shapes and sizes had also been brought in from all over the fortress and arranged into rows on either side of a long strip of burgundy-colored carpet—which would serve as the center aisle—leading up the stairs to the landing. Even a piano had been dragged in by a willing guest, which nobody decided to comment on. Many people were already filing in and taking their seats; as Nicko had predicted, most of the inhabitants of the House of Foryx were in want of something to do, and a wedding seemed enticing to them.

"Quite a good turnout you have here, Andrew," said a voice on his right.

The parson turned to see the owner of the voice and smiled. "Hotep-Ra, so glad you could come."

Hotep-Ra smiled back and spread his arms. "How could I not? I shouldn't want to miss seeing my good friend do his job once more. Besides," he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I made my Apprentice agree to be the bridesmaid."

Andrew chuckled. "I'm sure that Talmar will love that." Then his eyes widened. "You didn't tell them who you were, did you? That boy is a Wizard, and he may have come from the Castle."

Hotep-Ra shook his head. "Don't fret, I was aware of that. All I told him was that I am a Guardian of the House of Foryx, and I knew a girl who would be willing to serve as a bridesmaid. The boy seemed to have quite a few questions, but he didn't ask them." He sighed. "Though his being a Wizard does make me wonder if any ExtraOrdinary Apprentice has drawn the **Questing Stone** yet."

"I'm sure it will happen soon," Andrew reassured his friend. When Hotep-Ra didn't say anything more on the matter, he then changed the subject. "I must say, I'm a little worried about how this wedding will turn out."

"Understandable. You haven't conducted one since before you joined me here."

"No, that's not it. I'm not worried about the wedding itself, but rather for the couple getting married."

Hotep-Ra raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how so?"

"Well, they seem to be too young to be getting married. Neither the boy nor the girl could be a day over fifteen."

"Ah." Hotep-Ra was silent for a moment. "Well, youths and their puppy love, so to speak. I have a hunch that their wedding might be inspired by teenage rebellion."

"In the House of Foryx?" Andrew shook his head. "There must be more to the story than _that_."

The former ExtraOrdinary Wizard winked. "There always is, my dear Andrew Parson. But it is none of our business; if two adolescents want to attempt as big of a commitment as marriage, then I say let them do it. And speaking of 'it'—" Hotep-Ra made a show of checking his timepiece (which didn't work in the House of Foryx, obviously), "I think that it's about time to begin the wedding."

"Oh heavens, you're right!" Andrew exclaimed, flustered. "We must get started, then!"

"Calm yourself, Andrew," Hotep-Ra soothed, well aware that his friend was bluffing about not being worried about the wedding performance. "You're rather nervous, but I can assure you that you will do your job well." As the parson scurried off, Hotep-Ra's thoughts turned to the couple that Andrew would be marrying, and he added to himself, "It isn't you that one should worry for."

* * *

Happily for Andrew Parson, the wedding was performed flawlessly. Considering that her dress was a bedsheet and her veil was an old gauzy curtain, Snorri was absolutely stunning. Likewise, Nicko looked handsome in his borrowed black formal tunic, only one size too big. Once the vows had been exchanged, and the rings (provided by Hotep-Ra) placed on each other's fingers, the audience happily showered the couple with flower petals on their way back down the aisle. Then everyone retreated to the dining hall, where the kitchen staff had thrown together a reception. The food was, as Snorri put it, "_alldeles spektakulär,_" or "absolutely spectacular," and everyone there had a wonderful time feasting, socializing, and congratulating the newlyweds.

Finally, the guests grew weary and retired to their rooms, and Nicko and Snorri followed suit. When they came to the doorway of their room, Nicko opened the door with a dramatic flourish, then surprised Snorri by lifting her off her feet and carrying her over the threshold to their room. Among laughing protests to "put me down _right now_, Nicko!" Snorri was gently laid on the bed. Then Nicko crossed the room and quietly closed the door behind them.

"Snorri, love," Nicko asked, "would you put out the candle by the bed, please?"

Looking slightly confused, Snorri leaned over to the bedside table and blew out the flame. The bedroom was plunged into a shadowy darkness, lit only by the dim light of the moon shining through the milky window. Snorri wasn't sure why, but she felt a rather ominous feeling gather in the pit of her stomach.

Nicko joined her in sitting on the bed. "Snorri," he began, "there's...something I want to do tonight."

"What is it, _min älskade?_" Snorri asked placidly, ignoring her misgivings.

"Well..." Nicko suddenly hesitated. "Oh, Snorri, you look absolutely gorgeous!"

Snorri looked down at herself, and discovered that it was true. The moonlight reflected off her hair and wedding gown in a way that she seemed to glow. She blushed. "Thank you, Nicko. Now what is it you want to do tonight? You are, how you say...beating about the bush, you know." **A/N Eeek, and so am I!**

"Yes, I know." Nicko chuckled. "Hmm. Well, ever since I first fell in love with you, I have wanted to do this with you. But I wanted to do it the right way. So I waited until we might have an opportunity to marry—though I didn't know it would happen this soon, of course—so that we might both enjoy it safely, I guess. It's...it's really kind of hard to explain, actually." He seemed unusually bashful by now.

"Oh?" Suddenly Snorri had an idea of what he was getting at.

"Uh-huh. But I can tell you this—" He leaned forward. "It begins with a kiss."

His lips locked with hers, and then they were kissing passionately, hungrily, wanting more. She cradled his face in her hands, then threw her arms around his neck as the lust overwhelmed her completely. He ran his hands down her sides, loosening the pins on her dress, and lowering her down onto the bed at the same time.

At last Snorri understood. _Snorri, what are you doing?!_ her mind screamed. _You're too young, you're not ready yet! What would your mother say?_ But as Nicko eased her out of her dress and she found her own hands taking off his tunic, Snorri's heart knew better. _You are his wife now, after all, it whispered. He has every right to be doing this. So go on, then. Enjoy yourself._ And when she felt it at last, that she and her husband were no longer two but one, she did.

There was no going back now.


	9. Fractured

**A/N: A little while back, a certain someone on this site posted a chapter on their story and dedicated it to me, and I find it only fair to return the favor. So, awesome-person-who-did-that (you know who you are), this chapter is for you. :) Enjoy! Or maybe not...**

Fractured

Snorri tried her best to enjoy herself. Every morning she would wake first, and adoringly gaze at her husband as he slept on. This hadn't been possible before the wedding, as Nicko had let Snorri have the bed to herself and slept in the armchair instead, but now the couple could share the bed without worrying about an awkward situation. When Nicko woke, they would talk for a little while, then each get dressed and go for a stroll in the corridors, hand in hand. One time, Nicko took Snorri to the Foryx Greenhouse, and they spent the whole day admiring the variety of flowers—and laughing when Nicko covered his braided straw curls in roses but forgot to trim off the thorns. Another time they found themselves in a side parlor off the Great Hall, which they discovered had the piano. Wife surprised husband by plinking out a few simple tunes, but as Nicko told Snorri, to him it was the music of love. In the evenings, they would sit by a secluded fireplace in the Great Hall and tell each other the stories of their lives before they had met, enjoying each other's company. It was the little things like these, combined with the spontaneous sweet kisses, that Snorri enjoyed, and she grew to love Nicko even more.

But it was the nights that unsettled her. After their wedding night, Nicko became rather impulsive, insisting on making love every evening. Not wanting to upset him, Snorri never resisted. And although she did take pleasure in the rush that it gave her, there was always a niggling fear in the back of her mind that something was wrong.

And one morning, she figured out what it was.

Like all mornings, Snorri was up first. But this time, she found that she had to use the loo. Quietly, so as not to disturb Nicko, Snorri slipped into her nightgown and padded soundlessly out into the corridor and in the direction of the Ladies' Washroom. Moments later, as she was washing her hands, a fleeting thought, caused by that age-old feminine instinct, crossed her mind.

Her period should have started by now.

Snorri stared at herself in the mirror, frozen as her mind raced. Yes, it was supposed to be today, it had been a month since the last cycle. Yet there had been no blood when she relieved herself. Then Snorri came to the inevitable, awful conclusion.

"_Nej,_" she whispered. "_Nej,_ it is not true." Refusing to believe what had happened, Snorri counted the days that had passed since the wedding. With dawning horror, she realized that it had been a full two weeks. "_Fjorton dagar,_" she said, her voice rising in a panic. "_Nej. Nej, nej, NEJ!_"

The door to the Ladies' Washroom was thrown open, and Snorri tore down the corridor back to the room. All the while, echoing in her ears was a conversation she had had with her mother a year before her journey to the Castle:

_"Now, Snorri, now do you understand how intercourse works?"_

_Snorri rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mamma." Then she thought of something. "But Mamma, when I am married, how will I know when my husband and I should...do it? To try to have a baby?"_

_Alfrún smiled. "When the time is right, you will sense it, believe me. But it should be about fourteen days before your monthly bleeding."_

"NICKO!"

* * *

Snorri crashed into the room, jolting her poor husband awake. "Nicko,_ Nicko!_"

Nicko yawned and rolled out of bed, staring at her blearily. "A'righ', 'm 'wake. Whaddya need?" Then his eyes began to focus, and he noticed the frightened look on his wife's face. "Snorri, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked in concern, moving forward to take her arm.

Snorri shrugged away from his grasp. "No, Nicko, _snälla! Jag—jag är gravid!_ I'm pregnant!"

_Pregnant...pregnant...pregnant..._The word whirled around Nicko's mind. He didn't know how to react. It seemed to him that he was of two minds. What Nicko didn't know is that by this point he really did have two minds, or personalities. One was the carefree, comical, easygoing Nicko that he had been all his life. But the other was a serious, worrying Nicko, which was created in Marcellus's Time and brought to light in the House of Foryx. And unfortunately for Snorri, it was the second Nicko that she knew well, and expected to come to her aid.

* * *

But in the end, it was the first Nicko that shone through. "Snorri, that's...that's great!" he said, a grin breaking out on his face. "We're gonna have a kid!"

Snorri was thunderstruck. She stared at him, her mouth gaping. This wasn't what she'd wanted him to say! "We are _fifteen,_ Nicko. Fifteen! What in name of Odin do we do with a baby!"

Nicko's grin faltered. "Oh. Er...yeah. Didn't really think about that, I guess." He shrugged. "S'pose we hand it off to someone else, then—"

"You are _mad?!_" Snorri was on the verge of hysteria. _What, is he out of his mind?_ she thought. "We cannot dump it with a stranger! That is heartless!"

"Hush, love, hush." Nicko pressed a finger to her lips, and Snorri angrily noticed that he seemed exasperated with her. "Fine, we'll take care of the baby, then. And when Sep and Jen come for us, we can leave it in the House of Foryx, and no one will ever—"

"_Aaargh!_" That did it. Before she knew what she was doing, Snorri's hand flew up and slapped Nicko across the face with a loud smack. "You understand nothing," she ground out, her voice quivering with shocked rage, "nothing to be a father, nothing to be a_ husband!_" Turning on her heel, Snorri stormed out into the hallway, then spun around and screamed, "I hate you, Nicko! You—you _helvetes jävla knullansikte!_"

_BANG!_ As if to punctuate the awful insults, the door slammed shut.

* * *

Nicko did not know how long he gazed at the door, emotionally and physically stunned. What had he _said?_ It was _Snorri_ who had changed her mind on him, initially saying she didn't want the baby, and when Nicko tried to offer a suggestion she suddenly wanted it. It was _her_ fault, not his!

"No, stop that," Nicko told himself. "That kind of talk won't get you anywhere with her." He remembered a comment that Silas had made to him after an argument with Sarah when Nicko was eight. Something about the wrath of a woman scorned, and that women could never be understood.

Nicko moaned and fell back on the bed._ Oh, what was I _thinking_ when I proposed?_ he wondered.

**A/N: Aaaaaaand there it is. Oh, and thanks so much to Miss Odale Overstrand for providing the Swedish curses. You rock! I'll do my best to update soon, but school starts for me tomorrow (uggghhhh...!)**


	10. Prickly

Prickly

In the room next door, three Wizards were gathered around a table. Two of them, brother and sister, were playing a game of Counter-Feet, while the other, the sister's husband, looked on and kept score. All three of them wore blue pointed hats, as they were from a Time before the Pointy Hat Protests, which made it disgraceful for any Wizard to wear a pointed hat. (DomDaniel, of course, had taken no notice of this as a social faux pas.) The sister had been a mere three moves away from winning the game when all three heard muffled shouts coming through the wall.

The brother tutted. "It's that teen couple," he said, "the ones that got married here."

"I know, Fritz," his sister sighed. "The poor dears, having their first quarrel so soon."

Her husband chuckled. "As I recall, Marie, our first fight was the night after our wedding."

"Yes I know, Elias," Marie said with a distracted smile, deftly maneuvering her Tunneler out of the beginnings of an unwanted escape tunnel. "I remember it well. You wanted to make love that night, and I wanted to wait until we were a stable couple. And, as I recall, I won."

Elias was still coming up with a retort when all three Wizards heard the slap, followed by more screaming and the distinct slamming of a door. Instinctively they turned to their own open door, and their eyes were met with the sight of a wild-eyed girl with tangled hair and a dirty, rumpled nightdress hanging loosely from her bony shoulders. Each shocked, unable to move, they stared at each other in bewilderment. Then the girl broke the spell and jabbed a finger at the Wizard trio. "_Vad tittar du på! Ser du inte jag har en dålig dag?!_" And she was gone in a blink.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Fritz whispered, "She's a Witch. That's why they fought."

Marie scoffed. "Fritz, don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not!" Fritz insisted. "It makes perfect sense! Did you see her eyes? Everyone knows that witches have blue eyes. And the way she **Transfixed** us with her stare—admit it, you felt that! And_ did you hear what she said?_"

"No, Fritz, I wasn't—"

"Exactly!" her younger brother interrupted. "Foreign words like that can mean only one thing: a Witchy **Hex**!"

"Not necessarily, Fritz!" Marie argued in exasperation. "It's probably just her native language from some other country that we've never been to. For pity's sake, think logically!"

But Fritz wasn't listening. "What could she have** Hexed**?" he muttered to himself, quickly scanning the room. Then his eyes fell on his potted cactus plant. Or, rather, what should have been his potted cactus plant. With a cry, Fritz darted out of his chair and fell to his knees beside the shriveled-up remains of his most prized possession, a gift from a Wizard friend long gone. With a flash, his horror and grief turned to anger. "That Witch killed my cactus!"

This time it was Elias's turn to roll his eyes. "Fritz Thomas Stahlbaum, ever since I met you, I've known you for a bit of a drama queen, and this is no exception. Didn't Marie advise you to keep it in the Foryx Greenhouse? Cacti survive a long time without water, true, but neglect it for what you think are only a few days, and look what happens—"

"It _was_ only a few days!" Fritz protested, ignoring the sage words of his brother-in-law. "The Witch **Ill-Wished** it, that's the only explanation!" Abruptly he stood up and headed for the door. "I'm going to find that Witch and give her a piece of my mind!"

As Fritz stomped down the corridor, Marie shook her head in defeat. "Fritz is so stubborn sometimes," she complained to her husband. "I don't know who that poor girl is, but I sure wouldn't want to be in her place when he finds her."

* * *

Snorri ran blindly, shutting her eyes to stop the tears, not caring where she ended up or how. All she could think was this:_ Nicko did not care_. All he had said to and done for her, it was all a lie. In the end, he had done nothing more that selfishly take advantage of her. And yet, Snorri had this simultaneous thought: _It is all my fault_. It was she who had lost her temper; Nicko, her sweet Nicko, had remained calm and tried his best to come up with a solution. He wasn't to blame for not knowing the effect his words would ultimately have.

Finally, Snorri slowed down and came to a stop. Opening her eyes and wiping away the unspilled tears, she found herself on the landing, leaning over the balustrade. She smiled. _At least I have Ullr,_ she thought._ I understand Ullr._ Closing her eyes once more, she **Looked** through his eyes, as she had not done since before the wedding.

_**Seeing**__ through his eyes, Snorri __**Saw**__ something different than before. Up until now, all she had __**Seen**__ was around the Palace and other places in the Castle, mostly with Jenna, sometimes also with Septimus and a dark-haired boy she didn't recognize. And that had only been in flashes, as it was almost impossible to __**See**__ in the House of Foryx. But now, she could clearly __**Watch**__ as Jenna, Septimus, and the dark-haired boy made their way through the Forest. Then Ullr's __**Vision**__ went out of __**Focus**__, and when Snorri could __**See**__ again, the summer Forest had changed to the Wintery Forest of Wudz and the other Low Countries. Snorri was sure of it. She didn't know how they had gotten there, but they had, and they were coming for Nicko and her. Lost in her __**Sight**__, Snorri murmured in her own native tongue, "_Äntligen!_ Oh, Ullr, bring them here! We are still here, we are waiting for you!" Eagerly, she watched as they hiked through the snow, and as night fell, she __**Saw**__ them make their way to a refuge on a hill—_

"There she is! That's the one, GET HER!"

Four hands, two large and meaty, the other two thin and wiry, grabbed her arms. Jolted from her **Sight**, Snorri gasped and struggled to turn around.

She didn't have to. The two men who had a hold of Snorri roughly spun her around, and she found herself face-to-face with Elsa Groningen—although Snorri only knew her as the Guardian. And right now, Snorri wished she didn't know her.

"Well done, Fowler and Brat," Elsa said to the men, her iron-grey eyes never leaving Snorri's face. She leaned forward menacingly. "I seem to recall asking you to refrain from practicing your Witchcraft while under the roof of the House of Foryx. And today, not only do I find you down here again after** Ill-Wishing** this poor man's cactus—" she gestured to a victorious-looking man standing off to the side (this, of course, was Fritz Stahlbaum), "—but now you have the_ insolence_ of chanting one of your Witchy Spells!"

Snorri was terrified. This time, she would tell the Guardian the truth. "No! I am a Spirit-Seer, I—"

"Sounds like a Witch to me!" Fritz crowed triumphantly.

"Indeed," Elsa agreed. "I'm afraid, Witch, that you are out of excuses." She turned to the wiry bodyguard. "Tell me, Brat, is the fortified room vacant?"

Brat shook his head, and Snorri recoiled her head to avoid his cauliflower ears. "No, Madam Guardian. We are keeping that Princess in there."

"Ah, yes. In that case, **Hide** her in one of the Glass Rooms. You may take her away now."

The men nodded. "Alright missy, let's go!" They began to drag her towards one of the far turrets.

Snorri attempted to wrench her arms out of their grasp, to no avail. "NICKO!" she screamed in a last, desperate attempt. "Nicko,_ h_—MMF!"

Fowler clamped a huge hand over her mouth to silence her shouts. Elsa Groningen smiled with grim satisfaction. In the silky tone that Snorri had come to despise, she said, "I'm afraid your sweetheart can't help you now."


	11. Wanderer

**A/N Hey guys! Forgot to mention in the last chapter that all of the Wizard's names (and possibly their personalities, I'm not 100% sure) were borrowed from E.T.A. Hoffman's ****The Nutcracker****, so I do not own them. Neither do I own ****Septimus Heap****. Anyhow, this chapter is rather short, and may get a little confusing somewhere towards the middle****—****just know that Nicko is in a somewhat hallucinatory/dreamlike state for a couple paragraphs. **

**Okay, I'll shut up now, and let you all read.**

Wanderer

Some time later, Nicko woke up. After the quarrel and his collapse back on the bed, Nicko had fallen into a deep, restless **Sleep**. Oh, if only he could **Sleep** forever, away from all his troubles! But no._ I have to set things right with Snorri_, he told himself reluctantly. _We'll figure out something about the baby_.

Nicko eased himself off the bed and stumbled to the door, leaning on the desk as his head cleared from dizziness. Blearily, he noticed the biscuit platter sitting forlornly on the desktop. Neither he nor Snorri had touched it since their first day. Shrugging to himself, Nicko reached for a biscuit. This time, it definitely tasted more bland than delicious, but Nicko choked it down anyway and stepped out into the dim corridor.

"Snorri?" he called softly. When there was no answer, Nicko slipped down the corridor and out onto the spiral staircase. "Snorri, are you there?" he said again, a little louder. The next moment, Nicko realized he was on the balustraded landing, standing on the very same spot Snorri had stood on. He looked around, and dimly noticed that the Guardian wasn't at her normal post. Little did he know where she really was.

With a sigh, Nicko haltingly made his way down the grand staircase and into the crowded Great Hall below, searching for a flash of white-blonde hair, or those beautiful azure eyes. Eventually he settled into a rhythm, aimlessly wandering through the shadowy specters of people, asking if anyone had seen her. But the answer was always the same: no, they were very sorry, perhaps she was over there, maybe someone else might know. Growing more and more dejected with each false hope or shake of the head, Nicko would wearily yet politely thank them, and set off once more.

Days passed. No, months. Or even years, centuries. Millenia. The sun stopped shining. The moon crashed into the earth, burning into oblivion. The galaxy had expanded, contracted, disappeared without a trace in a gut-wrenching _crunch_. Nicko knew not, cared not. But after all of that had happened, it seemed, he finally pushed his way through the shifting ocean of translucent bodies and reached the safety of the main staircase. Feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, Nicko staggered up the mountain, desperate to reach the peak. He wasn't sure when he had noticed the trail of snow, nor when he had begun to follow it. But now he was on its path, following its continuous wind up, ever up, into the sky, and then the sky melted into heaven itself.

Nicko stepped through the third and highest archway in the far turret. It was almost completely dark, but Nicko could tell that the room was huge—it took up the entire width of the turret. Miscellaneous pieces of furniture took up the entire space, having been stored there when there was no place left in the House of Foryx. At some point, the furniture had been piled high and arranged so that it formed a remarkably accurate (if somewhat octagonal) labyrinth, and it into was this labyrinth that Nicko, still following his envisioned trail of snow, stepped.

The labyrinth wound around and doubled back several times, but finally Nicko reached its heart. Intent on watching his trail, Nicko was startled to realize that the snow had melted away. It was only then that he looked up and saw, through the murky blackness, positioned at the opposite end of the center circle, leaning against the towering wall of furniture, a Glass of Time.

Instinctively Nicko shrank back, remembering his own journey through a Glass just like it, and the reason he and Snorri were at the House of Foryx in the first place. But then he remembered Aunt Ells's written account of her Time here, and it slowly dawned on him that this was the Glass that she had come through, so long ago or only yesterday. And it was _this_ Glass—Nicko correctly assumed that the other turrets had a room, labyrinth, and Glass just like this, but he had some inkling that this was the one. Lost in ethereal thought, Nicko moved as if in a trance, closer to the Glass, reaching out a hand. The Glass was murky, cool to the touch, and Nicko only barely registered the fact that its surface was hard, solid. He shivered, coming to his senses at last. _Snorri obviously isn't up here_, he thought with a sigh. Turning away from the mystical Glass of Time, Nicko trudged toward the exit into the labyrinth's path—and stepped on something soft.

Bending down, Nicko groped around the floor until he found a palm-sized bundle of ragged wool cloth. Picking it up, he felt the cloth with his hands and recognized it as an old pair of socks. Even stranger, they were warm. Examining them as best he could in the dark, Nicko realized with a start that they were Snorri's socks, the ones Aunt Ells had given her. _So Snorri _was_ here_, he concluded, _and she left her socks for me to find._ Then he frowned. _But...why would she want me to know that she was here if she couldn't stay?_

* * *

In another darkness—**Darkenesse**—a weary, plaintive voice whispered, "Help me, Nicko. Help..."


	12. Interlude: Talk

**A/N: Decided to keep tradition and put in another Coldplay song; this'll be 2/4. Again, italicized lyrics apply to the story best. Enjoy! (The next chapter is already done, but I'm gonna be mean and make you all wait a bit (: )**

Talk

_Oh brother I can't, I can't get through_  
_I've been trying hard to reach you 'cause I don't know what to do_  
Oh brother I can't believe it's true  
I'm so scared about the future and I wanna talk to you  
_Oh I wanna talk to you_

You could take a picture of something you see  
In the future where will I be?  
You could climb a ladder up to the sun  
Or write a song nobody had sung  
Or do something that's never been done

_Are you lost or incomplete?_  
Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?  
Tell me how you feel  
_Well I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak_  
_And they're talking it to me_

So you take a picture of something you see  
In the future where will I be?  
You could climb a ladder up to the sun  
Or write a song nobody had sung  
Or do something that's never been done  
Do something that's never been done

So you don't know where you're going and you wanna talk  
And you feel like you're going where you've been before  
_You'll tell anyone who'll listen but you feel ignored_  
_Nothing's really making any sense at all_  
Let's talk, let's talk  
_Let's talk, let's talk_


	13. Comeuppance

**A/N So this past Tuesday, my high school held auditions for "Fiddler on the Roof". Of course I tried out for it, hoping to get the role of Chava (especially since I guessed—correctly—that my crush :) would get the role of Fyedka, the man Chava marries). Well, my audition SUCKED. Or so I thought. Anyhow the cast list was posted just this morning, so I go over to look at it, and I find out that I am TZEITEL! :O Which is kind of funny, as I play the oldest out of all five daughters, yet in reality I'm the youngest of actresses. In short, I've been kind of in a jubilant state of shock today... **

**All disclaimers still stand. Unfortunately. :(**

Comeuppance

Elsa Groningen was feeling rather jubilant. That Princess from the Eastern SnowPlains had finally come to her senses (as Elsa knew she would), allowing Fowler and Brat to release her and leaving a vacant spot for the Witch-girl. Her mission accomplished, the Guardian now climbed the steep corridor leading to Hotep-Ra's rooms and rapped sharply on his purple door.

A few minutes later, the former ExtraOrdinary Wizard answered the door. "Ah, good morning, Elsa," he greeted her cheerfully, disguising his weariness. It had not completely escaped his notice that she had become a bit of a nag while in the House of Foryx, although he wasn't aware of the extent. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir," Elsa announced smugly, "I have finally caught the Witch in her act. She cast a** Hex **on one of the guests here, and then proceeded to begin another on the landing! She has now been taken into custody and placed into the Fortified Room for safekeeping."

There was a pause. "Well. Good job, then," Hotep-Ra said at last, his expression blank. "And who might this young girl—Witch—be?"

Elsa felt mildly annoyed. Shouldn't her employer be more pleased with her efforts? "She is that blonde girl, the one who came with the sailor boy. They were married here by that parson friend of yours."

"I see," he said, a distinctly troubled look now crossing his features. "What, pray, makes you think she is a Witch?"

"Er..." Elsa faltered. Is he daft? Why doesn't he see? "Well, it is obvious, isn't it? She has blue eyes, as all Witches do, her wretched excuse for hair is nearly white for someone so young, and her rags reek of the Forests—honestly, that girl couldn't take care of herself if the House of Foryx depended on it! And then of course she spoke in the language of Witches—"

Hotep-Ra held up a hand to stop her. "Elsa. The girl is not a Witch."

The Guardian stared at him in disbelief. "What are you talking about, of course she is a—"

"Elsa, did you ever go to the Trader's Market? Back in the Castle, I mean."

She scoffed. "Of course not! I never had any time between you and Queen Miranda."

"Then you aren't familiar with the Northern Traders?"

Another pause, longer this time, as the meaning behind the Wizard's question sank in. "No." Elsa whispered it, not at all in her normal, imperious voice.

Hotep-Ra nodded. "I thought as much." Then he sighed and ran a hand through his long, gray hair. "Elsa, the girl—and she does have a name, Snorri Snorrelssen—is from the Land of the Long Nights, northwest of the Small Wet Country Across the Sea. There, everyone has blue eyes and white-blonde hair. By the way, on the subject of her eyes, they are the wrong shade of blue; hers is a darker shade, while a true Witch's eyes are more of an icy blue. Her garments, though worn, bear the colors of a Northern Trader. And the foreign dialect she spoke is her native language, which is different from the one you grew up with."

A third silence ensued. Cheeks burning, Elsa mumbled meekly, "She is not a Witch then, I suppose." Then her head snapped up as she remembered something. "But then the W—er, Snorri—told me that she was a Spirit-Seer!"

Hotep-Ra raised an eyebrow. "Ah, and you assumed that that is a type of Witch?" When Elsa didn't reply he went on. "It's alright, I understand that you jumped to conclusions. Something you seem to be doing much of here."

Stiffening, Elsa protested, "I do not—"

"Hey, I'm not blaming you. Why do you think I made you Guardian in the first place? But we were talking about Spirit-Seers. All it means is that Snorri can see ghosts without them **Appearing** to her. She probably also has a Seer's Companion in the form of an animal. A Spirit-Seer can do a **MindLink** with his or her Companion, allowing him or her to **See** through the Companion's eyes. And if Snorri and her husband are waiting on someone from their own Time, would it not be useful to **Watch** their progress?"

Elsa felt utterly embarrassed at her own ignorance. She had been so sure she was doing something right. And for once, she was in the wrong. "I should release her, then."

"Yes, that would probably be wise," Hotep-Ra agreed. Then he smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder (the effect was rather comical, however, as Elsa was considerably taller). "You have nothing to be ashamed of." A/N Psh, whatever. "Again, I chose you for a reason."

"Because my father betrayed our family?"

"Well, yes," Hotep-Ra conceded. "But in many situations—not all, but many—it is better to take more action than necessary, as opposed to none at all. Remember that. Now," he went on briskly, "I believe you have your job to return to, yes?"

* * *

High above her, light streamed in as the door to the Fortified Room was opened. Snorri shrank back into the corner and shielded her eyes.

"Snorri Snorrelssen."

Snorri tensed. It was that horrid Guardian again. "Ja? Er—yes?"

She heard a deep breath being taken. "You have been found innocent of any Witchcraft, and may now be permitted to leave the Fortified Room." When Snorri didn't react, the silhouetted figure sighed. "Well, come along, then. Surely you don't want to stay down here for Eternity?"

"Ne—no." Snorri slowly stood up, her joints creaking in protest of leaving their crouched position, and slowly made her way up the narrow wooden staircase. Upon reaching the top, Elsa tutted. "My goodness, you are filthy. Come now, let's make you somewhat presentable." As she bent down to brush the dirt off of Snorri's robes, Elsa murmured coldly, "I don't like making mistakes, girl. Mistakes make me unhappy. And you do not wish to see me unhappy. So if you want to stay out of trouble, I would advise you to stay out of my way." Elsa stood up and brushed her own hands off, a characteristic look of disgust on her face. "Run along then. Go back to your husband." She shot a malicious look at Snorri. "If he's still here to return to."

Snorri ignored her, but a jolt of fear ran through her all the same. Nicko wouldn't have left the House of Foryx alone...would he? Of course not, she told herself. Nicko makes mistakes, but he will not do that. The Guardian wants me to doubt. She sighed. Now that she was free, Snorri wanted nothing more than to run back to her husband and apologize for her outburst, to tell him that arguing was no way to solve their problems.

Problems...Snorri looked down at herself. So that is what you have become, baby. A problem. For nothing you did, but that you are there. Despite her wish to set things right with Nicko, Snorri knew that there was something else that needed to be taken care of—someone she needed to talk to first.

**A/N Next chapter is still in progress, but Snorri's problems will be somewhat resolved—though she's kinda worse off, unfortunately. {makes shooing motion with hands} Carry on.**


	14. Guidance

**A/N This chapter was supposed to be finished last Friday, but that obviously did not happen. Crackfic Writes, since I promised that and couldn't hold to it, this chapter is for you.**

Guidance

"...And so I hit him, a-and I ran to the landing, where I **MindLinked** with Ullr—my cat—and the Guardian Hid me because she thought I was a Witch. Now she has let me go, I came to you."

The Princess of the Eastern SnowPlains sighed. "Why, you poor girl. Oh! The tea is ready," she added as a shrill whistle sounded from across the room. She got up from the sofa, and soon returned with two steaming mugs, handing one to Snorri. "Be careful, it's very hot."

Snorri accepted the tea gratefully. Taking a sip, her eyes widened. "My head. It—clear. Head feels clear."

"Good," the Princess said, looking pleased. "My childhood governess's special herbal tea. It helps with the fogginess of the senses. And one certainly acquires that in the House of Foryx, no?"

Snorri nodded sagely. She wasn't sure she understood all those big, foreign words.

"But we were discussing your problems," the Princess went on, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "So you say you haven't the faintest idea of how to resolve the argument with your husband."

"_Ja._ That is it."

"Tell me, what was the fight about?"

Snorri shrugged. "Was not really a fight. I lost my temper with Nicko."

The Princess chuckled. "Most fights are that way. But I sense that you are avoiding the question," she went on, raising an eyebrow.

"_Ja, det är jag,_" Snorri admitted. "It is...well, I learned we are pregnant."

A look of utter pity crossed the Princess's features. "Ah. Now that would be a problem, wouldn't it?"

Snorri bit her lip and nodded. Tears brimmed in her eyes. "_Jag vet inte._ I do not know what to do."

Next thing she knew, Snorri had been wrapped in a warm embrace. "Oh, you poor thing," the Princess murmured over and over, as Snorri quietly cried on her shoulder. Eventually she pulled back and wiped her eyes. "But this is why I come to see you. I must know what to do. To say to Nicko."

The Princess was silent. "Well, that will depend," she said at last, fiddling with her furry robes absently. "Now, I need to ask you an important question. It may be a little awkward, and I am terribly sorry, but I must know if I am to help you." She leaned forward, and in a grave tone asked, "Did the two of you have intercourse before or after your arrival at the House of Foryx?"

Snorri cocked her head, a little embarrassed but mostly puzzled. "After. Why?"

Sighing in relief, the Princess broke out grinning. "Because this means you're not pregnant!"

Snorri gasped. "_Vad? Men hur?_ How?" She looked down at herself. _Can this be true? Oh, please be true!_

"This is the House of Foryx," the Princess explained happily. "The place Where All Times Do Meet. Which you know means that there is no Time in here."

"_Ja,_" Snorri said, nodding slowly. She was beginning to see where the Princess was going. "_Fortsätt._ Go on."

"For women, this means two side effects. One is that you cannot conceive. The other is that you eventually will not menstruate."

"Men-stru-ate?"

"Oh dear, um..._menstruera_. There, I believe that's your word for it. Now as I was saying, I discovered when I first came here that the periods slow down and stop after staying at the House of Foryx long-term. Because the body cannot judge the Time in between."

Snorri's mind was racing. "So, when my periods stopped, it was only a—oh, the word—coincidence?" When the Princess nodded yes, Snorri sank into the cushions, weak with excitement, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from her. "Oh, I must tell Nicko!" She jumped up from the sofa and hugged the Princess. "_Tack så mycket!_ For everything!" In another moment, she was gone from the chamber.

The Princess of the Eastern SnowPlains gazed at the mess on the floor. In her haste, Snorri had accidently dropped the mug, leaving a steaming wreckage of tea leaves and shattered ceramic. Chuckling, she stood up to hunt for a mop. Her appointment with the young girl in the dragon chair could wait. Not that there was any Time to keep track of.

* * *

Snorri raced down the spiral steps of the far turret and across the landing, deftly avoiding both the Guardian and her sharp tongue. She clambered up the stairs of their turret and dashed into the first hallway. It was only then that Snorri slowed to a walk, mentally rehearsing what she would say to Nicko: first the apology, then the good news, and finally the story of what she had been through. Soon she stood in front of their door and, feeling a little apprehensive, pushed it open.

"Nicko?" she called softly. There was no reply. Snorri stepped into the chamber and looked around, but the room was empty. With a start it dawned on her that nothing had changed in the room since their argument. The bedsheets were still rumpled, her Northern Trader robes were still lying in a heap on the armchair—Jösses, _everywhere I wore my robe and nightdress_—Nicko's drawings were still scattered all over the desk, and his clothes were still strewn near the fireplace. But when she took a closer look, Snorri discovered that the clothes Nicko had left were his sleepwear. _So he is looking for me,_ she thought.

And then it hit her. Snorri wasn't the only one feeling guilty about the fight. Nicko, her sweet Nicko. To imagine how _he_ would be feeling right now! _To be the one that slept with me—he believes it was all his fault,_ Snorri finally realized with a sinking feeling. _And now I know how impulsive he is..._Åh nej! _I must find him!_

Almost before she could consciously think again, Snorri was staring at the soot-streaked marble walls opposite the balustrades of the landing. But there was one spot where the soot had been smeared away, and it was at this spot that Snorri made out the shape of a familiar handprint.

Nicko's handprint.

Snorri vaguely noticed that there were tears streaming down her face yet again. Brushing them off, she rubbed at the smeared soot with wet fingers until the outline of the handprint was unmistakably clear. Then Snorri wiped away the remaining tears, leaving black smudges on her cheeks, and dashed into the ocean of people below.


	15. Decision

**A/N Shoot, I just realized that I completely forgot to explain something important in the last chapter. In chapters Prickly and Comeuppance, I hinted that the Eastern SnowPlains Princess had also been kept in the Fortified Room. I meant to explain that this was because, as Elsa would have put it, "She had been causing a disturbance among the residents by pestering them about finding someone from her own Time." And after being released, the Princess pretty much resigned herself to the fact that she would probably be stuck in the House of Foryx for eternity. So yeah, just wanted to add that in there.**

**Oh, and I'm sorry to say that there are only two-three more chapters left. But hey, I've got plans for an even bigger fanfic, so hang in there!**

**One more thing: yes, all DISCLAIMERS still stand.**

**Alright, I'll shut up now...**

Decision

Nicko tapped on yet another woman's shoulder. "Excuse me?"

The woman turned to face him, and Nicko thought for a moment that he was face-to-face with the combed blonde curls and Wizard-green eyes of his own mother; that is, until she said, "Greetings, stranger. And how might I be of service to thee?"

Shaking off thoughts of Sarah, Nicko straightened up and confidently asked, "My name is Nicko Heap, and I am looking for—"

"I beg thy pardon, but didst thou say thy surname be Heap?"

Puzzled, Nicko nodded.

"Be thou of the Castle?"

Again, Nicko nodded.

The woman's striking green eyes lit up and her jaw dropped. "Mine own family name be Heap! But I do perceive by thy speech that thou art not of my Time. Pray tell, from what Time didst thou enter this House of Foryx?"

"Er..." _What is_ wrong _with me?_ Nicko berated himself mentally. _How could I forget my own Time?_ "Um, twelve one—wait, four thousand—oh no, no it's—" Nicko snapped his fingers as he struggled to think of it, "—12,001! Yes, that's it!"

Nicko's ancestor shook her head in amazement. "Zounds, thou art mine descendent of five and twenty score years!" She took his hands. "I am called Demelza Heap. Come, let us retire to a chamber so that we might converse amongst ourselves."

* * *

Some time later, who knew how long, Nicko and Demelza made their way to the lobby. "I am well acquainted with the great Alchemist, Marcellus Pye," Demelza was saying. "I will be certain deliver thy message that thou and thy dame hast arrived here safe and sound."

Nicko embraced her warmly. "Thank you so much," he told her in gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Demelza chuckled. "I do believe that I might possess some portion of an idea. But no matter. 'Twas most pleasurable of pleasures to meet with thee. And now I must take my leave." She motioned to the DoorKeeper, who hopped down from his pedestal and pulled open the great door.

With a start, Nicko saw that no one was outside waiting for her. "Demelza—"

"Fare thee well, Nicko!" she called, stepping out into the snow.

"Wait! Stop!" Nicko cried out in a panic. But it was too late. The DoorKeeper slammed the door shut, then flashed an impudent smirk at Nicko. "Foolish woman. She doesn't wealize that she isn't in her own Time!" And with an impertinent cackle, he clambered back up onto the pedestal and was still.

Nicko sank to his knees in despair. Now he didn't even know if the message would ever reach Marcellus. His one chance of connecting with the outside world was gone.

"_Hallå?_"

Looking up, Nicko noticed for the first time that there was a little girl sitting in the large waiting chair, swinging her legs back and forth. She had the same white-blonde hair as Snorri's, tied back in a long plait, and her blue eyes also seemed to bear resemblance, so much so that Nicko felt a pang in his chest.

"_Är du okej?_" the girl asked, cocking her head in a manner even more like that of Snorri. "_Du ser väldigt ledsen._"

Nicko shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't understand what you're saying."

The girl looked very confused, but also as if she expected nothing more. Shrugging, she resumed swinging her legs back and forth and stopped trying to make conversation, but Nicko distinctly heard her mutter to herself, "_Jag förstår inte varför han inte bara kan gå utanför med sin vän._"

Whether it was intuition or just pure luck, Nicko somehow knew what she was saying. He looked up at the great door, leading to the outside world. _Maybe that's why I can't find her,_ he wondered with a certain sense of resolution. _Maybe she was tired of it all, and then just up and left._ He stood up and faced the door. _Well, why can't I do the same?_ Wearily reaching out, Nicko put his hand on the doorknob and turned.

"Nicko."

Only one person said his name that way. Only one person had that accented, mezzo-soprano voice. Only one person could turn his name into a lilting, playful song.

Nicko whirled around.

She stood between the open double doors, leading into the Great Hall. Her white-blonde hair, once neat and silky, was now a matted, tangled, and greasy mess. She had become unnaturally paler and thinner, like a wooden skewer, and her one-time pearly nightdress was now an ugly brown, soiled and tattered. She looked for all the world like a skeleton with a pile of rags carelessly draped over her insubstantial frame. But Nicko saw none of that. What he saw was the gold band on her finger, the outstretched arms—the bittersweet smile on her soot-streaked face.

"Only a little longer, Nicko," Snorri said to him. "We can wait a little longer."

They walked out of the lobby hand in hand, tired and broken down but serene. Neither felt the Eastern SnowPlains Princess brush past them with a small tray of food in her hands. Neither saw the Princess push open the double doors and step into the lobby. And neither heard the Princess say, "_Jag är tillbaka,_ Ells."


	16. Worries

Worries

In spite of their relief at finding each other safe, Nicko and Snorri were much more subdued now. There were no more whispered sweet nothings, no more spontaneous kisses, no more making love at night. Nicko now knew to be considerably more cautious in conversations, and Snorri appreciated it. But the tension was still there, and they began spending less and less time in each others' company.

One afternoon, Snorri was attempting to doze on the bed when Nicko shuffled into the room. "Snorri, I don't know how much longer I can stand this."

"Mm?" Snorri rolled over and looked up at him.

He sighed and collapsed in the chair. Picking up the quill pen, Nicko began roughly sketching something. "There's nothing to do anymore. I don't want to eat, and I don't want to sleep. We know nobody here to talk to. I feel so restless, but I can't _do_ anything!" He slammed his fist on the desk, sloshing ink on part of his sketch. Furiously Nicko scribbled the rest of it out and put his head in his hands. "This place is killing me, Snorri. It's sucking the life out, using me up. I need to get _out_ of here!"

Snorri rolled out of the bed and softly trod over the carpet to stand behind him. She put her thin white hands on Nicko's shoulders and began to massage them. She began to hum, softly and haltingly at first, but gradually becoming louder and more flowing. Then the humming gave way to singing:

_"Vårvindar friska leka  
Och viska lunderna kring  
Likt älskande par.  
Strömarna ila,  
Finna ej vila  
Förrän I havet störtvågen far.  
Klaga mitt hjärta,  
Klaga och hör  
Vallhornets klang  
Bland klipporna dör.  
Strömkarlen spelar,  
Sorgerna delar  
Vakan kring berg och dal."_

Nicko slowly turned and managed a half smile. "That's very pretty."

Snorri smiled back. "It is a song for little children. Is called...'Spring Breezes Weave and Whisper'."

"What's it about?"

"It—well, it means...Here. I will translate:

"Spring breezes weave and whisper,  
All through the trees, now green,  
As young lovers be.  
Streams flow in a hurry,  
No rest or worry  
Until their foam meets the sea.  
Cry out my heart.  
Cry out and hear  
The herdsman's horn  
Now echo, then pale.  
River sprites playing,  
Sorrows dismaying  
They wake in hill and dale."

Nicko slowly nodded and wiped his eyes. "Very pretty." He sniffled softly.

"Oh, Nicko," Snorri whispered. "You want to leave still?" Knowing his answer would be affirmative, Snorri went on. "Please do not. I **Saw** your brother and sister. They do not forget. We must wait for them."

"But Snorri, that was before—" Nicko hesitated. "Before 'everything' happened. What if something happened to _them?_ We'd be stuck here, waiting for them, and they don't ever come!"

"This is maybe a _fängelse_, but is the House of Foryx," Snorri countered. "We know not when I **Saw** them last. We will wait," she added firmly.

Nicko sighed. "Sometimes I wish you weren't always right."

Snorri didn't reply. Instead, she took his rough hands in her thin ones and squeezed them. "For their sake. For my sake." She paused. "But for your sake, also."

"Alright," he gave in. "Like it or not, you _are_ right." Nicko pulled his hands away and folded them over his head once more.

Snorri ruffled his hair. Then she lowered herself to the floor and rested her head on Nicko's lap. She began humming again, the sound vibrating through their bodies, eventually lulling them both into a soothing slumber.

* * *

Time passed.

* * *

Something soft and wet nuzzled Snorri's shoulder.

Snorri yawned and blinked her eyes open. "Mm, Nik? _Vahhhd?_" She saw a blackness filling her vision. Dazed, Snorri cocked her head as her mind, still sluggish from sleep, struggled to work out what she was staring at. As her vision came into focus, Snorri made out two pinpricks of yellow light within a round figure. She could feel hot breath on her face, and made out a quiet, rumbling sound.

And then it hit her.

Snorri snapped awake and leapt to her feet, letting out a shriek of joy. "Ullr! Ullr, Ullr, _Ullr!_"

* * *

Nicko was jolted out of a restless dream. He raised his head and noticed Snorri standing a little ways off, embracing something big, black, and furry. _Is that...? No, it can't be,_ Nicko speculated. But sure enough, there was the orange-tipped tail. Hardly daring to hope, he craned his neck to see the doorway.

No one was there. But just as his heart was beginning to sink, a figure cautiously stepped into view. Nicko could only see the silhouette, but he recognized the long wavy hair, the violet eyes...

"Jen?"

And—could it be? Yes, it was—glinting in the candlelight was the pin that fastened her cloak, wound in the shape of a J. The pin that, it seemed so long ago, _he_ had given her.

"Jen! Oh, _Jen!_" Nicko shoved the armchair back with a newfound strength, and hurtled toward the doorway. Jenna met him halfway, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. They were both laughing and crying. Then Jenna turned to the doorway and exclaimed happily, "We found him. We _found_ him!"

It was then that Nicko noticed Septimus, hanging back uncertainly. He flashed his trademark grin and said, "Couldn't get rid of your big brother for long, now could you? C'mere, you!" And then all three of them were embracing. Nicko was in a state of utter bliss. His dearest siblings had come for him, after all.

* * *

And in the course of the entire reunion, not once did Snorri or Nicko think of each other.

**A/N Almost done! Just a few more chapters...**


	17. Interlude: Paradise

**A/N Well hello there, all. It's been awhile, hasn't it? Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Got unexpectedly busy, and I haven't had time to work on this story [and, frankly, there might be a smidgen of writer's block involved :(]. But anyhow, Markia Mayfields and I were talking, and she thought that this song fit Snorri's perspective rather well. So I decided to put this in.**

******DISCLAIMER: This is Coldplay's. Not mine.**

**"Paradise"**

_When she was just a girl_  
_She expected the world_  
_But it flew away from her reach_  
_So she ran away in her sleep_  
Dreamed of para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Every time she closed her eyes  
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh

When she was just a girl  
She expected the world  
But it flew away from her reach  
_And the bullets catch in her teeth_

_Life goes on_  
_It gets so heavy_  
The wheel breaks the butterfly  
_Every tear, a waterfall_  
_In the night, the stormy night_  
_She closed her eyes_  
_In the night, the stormy night_  
_Away she'd fly._

And dreamed of para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh

She dreamed of para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

La la la La  
La la la

So lying underneath those stormy skies.  
She said oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.  
_I know the sun must set to rise._

This could be para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
This could be para- para- paradise  
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

This could be para- para- paradise  
Para- para- paradise  
Could be para- para- paradise  
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

_This could be para- para- paradise_  
Para- para- paradise  
Could be para- para- paradise  
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.


End file.
